


Rose

by 2Atoms



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Baby!Fic, Childbirth but nothing graphic at all, F/F, Fluff, Married!Trixya, No Smut, Pregnant!Trixie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:26:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/2Atoms
Summary: Trixie and Katya are more than excited to have a kid: they're absolutely terrified. In a good way.





	Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really short fic I wrote for a friend, but I wanted to post it here too!

After thirty-two years on earth, including three years of marriage, Katya had never been as scared as in that hospital corridor.

A kindly, matron-esque woman watched her from the nurses’ station, offering her a smile every time Katya paced too far in her direction.

Anxious didn’t even cover how Katya felt. Trixie was in the operating theatre, going under the knife, and Katya couldn’t be by her side. She couldn’t stomach it. Trixie didn’t want her to be there, and Katya trusted that she knew best. Katya wouldn’t be any help, even if she was in the operating theatre, just getting in the way as she tried desperately to clutch at Trixie’s hand. The surgeons knew what they were doing, this hospital was the best. Katya had checked herself, found the most reputable place possible for Trixie to go through this.

She still hated it though. To be so powerless while Trixie was being operated on. It wasn’t just Trixie’s life she was worried about, either. There were two of Katya’s loved ones at stake in this hospital.

The whole pregnancy had felt like a dream to her, watching how Trixie grew with each passing month, imagining this intangible change in their lives, this future spent looking after a third family member. Every holiday they’d take their child on, how their friends would gather around and vie for the position of Best Aunt/Uncle. They stayed up late at night giggling over names and the novelty of how Trixie’s body changed, reading pregnancy website that Katya laughed about relentlessly. She’d largely stayed away from birth horror stories, trying to avoid giving her brain any more worst-case-scenarios. Her anxiety certainly needed no more material to work with.

Those nights cuddled up in bed with a laptop, researching while Trixie slept, all seemed a million miles away from Katya’s startling reality.

The hallway was weirdly quiet, for a hospital. She could only hear muffled thuds and the echoing of her own footsteps, the clicking of a nurse’s pen and the rumbling of occasional moving trolleys. For seconds at a time though, there’s just silence.

There were no windows in the corridor, only heavy, locked double doors which occasionally swing open for a gurney. Katya startled each time, staring at the body on the table – some conscious, some not – before realising it wasn’t Trixie and trying to politely avert her eyes. The fourth or fifth time it happened, Katya threw herself down in a crappy padded chair, huffing at herself.

She knew it was irrational. It was ridiculous to be this worried when the hospital had seen thousands of babies born, just tens of metres away from where she was standing.

But she couldn’t stop picturing Trixie’s face, still, trying to stay blank, praying to god the epidural kept doing its job. The injection itself and hours of contractions had left Trixie’s face pale and sweaty, from pain and stress and discomfort. Katya had tried to comfort her, dabbed the sweat from her face and tied her hair back for her in a smooth, low ponytail, which Trixie wouldn’t be seen dead in.

As Katya felt sorry for herself, and the ache in her chest, Trixie was through those double doors laying in an operating theatre. She was probably nodding and trying to be polite as the nurses talked to her and the surgeons talked over her.

Another pair of double doors banged open, and Katya almost jumped out of her skin.

It wasn’t Trixie.

She gave a sheepish look to the older nurse, still standing at the podium looking over records. Katya wondered if she actually needed to be there, or if she was just keeping Katya company in an act of kindness. Perhaps she was checking Katya didn’t do anything stupid. This was the closest Katya could stay to Trixie, without changing into full scrubs, and she wasn’t really sure if she was meant to be this deep into the hospital. Still, no one had stopped her from tracking down where Trixie had been taken.

Katya noticed the shake in her leg, how she was bouncing her knee in that anxious way which Trixie usually teased her for. She stopped, glancing over to the nurse to check she wasn’t annoying her too much, and was met with a kind smile from the older woman.

“She’s in the best hands, dear.”

She tried to smile back, embarrassed by how her lip was trembling.

Katya hated to think about what those hands were doing to Trixie, how brave she must have to be, alone. All that made it tolerable was the knowledge that after all of it, she would have not only an un-pregnant, recovering wife, but a daughter.

*

Katya had no idea how long she was in that corridor. Logic, and the nurse who kept her chatting towards the end of her anxious wait, told her it couldn’t have been longer than half an hour. But somehow it felt like longer than the entire day in hospital preceding it.

Still, Trixie was in recovery, and Katya was being led to a room full of tiny little babies to meet her daughter for the first time.

She was totally distracted by all the machines and boxes with babies in, staring around and wondering which baby might be theirs, and Katya didn’t even see the nurse swaddling a baby until it was being offered up to her.

“Do you want to hold her?”

The nurse was very softly spoken, young, her big brown eyes almost as adoring as Katya’s as she carefully supported the baby. Katya didn’t even need to answer. She held out both hands, let the midwife manipulate her arms so her daughter could be held comfortably to her chest.

Her eyes burned with tears as she looked down, into a face which she could imagine had Trixie’s nose, eyes which would probably be baby blue, once they opened to stare up at her.

“You were born very late, you know that?” She whispered, to the tiny, wrinkled baby swaddled in her arms. “It’s okay, we didn’t mind waiting.”

The nurse was busying herself nearby, cooing at other babies as she checked on them, but she snapped to attention the second Katya looked to her.

“Can we take her to Trixie?”

She smiled, eyes wrinkling, and took the baby back off Katya gently. Subconsciously, Katya caught herself holding on, taking her breath away once she realised the attachment she suddenly felt for this kid.

“Of course. Baby needs to feed, anyway.”

Katya didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment talking to her infant daughter, who was both asleep and incapable of processing speech. She stroked her head with a single, gentle thumb, before following the nurse. Who was, admittedly, far more stable on her feet with a baby in her arms than Katya.

“C’mon, let’s go bother your mom.”

*

Trixie named the baby as soon as she saw her, and Katya had no objections. Rose had opened her eyes for Trixie, unscrunched her pink, tiny little face to stare up at her moms as they burst into tears. Trixie held her close, skin on skin, and Katya held Trixie. Everything had to be gentle, tender, soft, but Katya couldn’t imagine Rose’s first day on earth being anything otherwise.

Best of all, Rose couldn’t be healthier. Perfect bloodwork, breathing well, born on the heavy side. She was – by all accounts – a perfect baby.

Trixie smiled, every time the doctors reiterated that point. Katya knew she’d been worried, researched every possible issue a baby could be born with. She would still be exhausting and hard work, draining in the way babies always are, but Katya was grateful there weren’t any more complications. All their fears, when Rose was born late, every time Trixie felt like there was something wrong, were apparently unfounded. They’d never been more thankful to be wrong.

She’d even fed well, Trixie crying as she held her to her chest for the first time, Katya standing beside the bed to stroke Trixie’s face, wiping away her tears. Every feed since, even the ones where they were both too sleep-deprived to speak, Katya tried to be there.

They took her home four days later, and Katya suddenly felt lost.

What are you supposed to do, when your wife just had an operation, and you’ve suddenly got a new baby? Are you supposed to cook a balanced dinner and keep doing your laundry every other Tuesday?

Katya had no answers for those questions, but she took most of her cues from Trixie.

Even in pain, even with no sleep, Trixie adapted incredibly. She needed Katya to help her out of bed, could hardly stand longer than two minutes for the first week they were home, and yet she was Katya’s rock. From the couch or the bed, pinned down under a sleeping Rose and her C-Section stitches, Trixie could still keep Katya sane. Soothing words and hummed melodies were the soundtrack to her days, Trixie's TV shows almost on mute so she could listen to Rose breathe.

Katya helped her with cleaning her incision wound, even as Trixie complained she was embarrassed. She worried a little about how it would scar, and Katya couldn’t believe her vanity at a time like this. Still, she comforted Trixie as best she could, kissing the baby fat on her stomach and the new stretch marks Trixie had developed.

Their sleep was totally at the mercy of a new-born baby, and the impact was evident from the day they returned home. It was what they’d dreaded most, being lovers of lie-ins and the odd early night. It was hard to identify where anger or grumpiness was borne from sleep – or pain, in Trixie’s case – so Katya tried to be forgiving at every turn. It got easier, after a few weeks, when their bodies adapted and Trixie recovered.

Once her stitches were out, Trixie would finally get out of bed alone, felt comfortable taking Rose out of her cot without Katya there to stabilise her.

When Rose was exactly a month old, Katya woke up in a panic. Alone in bed, it was well past nine in the morning, and everything felt wrong. She’d easily had eight hours sleep, and it felt jarring. Her first thought was Rose, who was not in her cot, and her second was Trixie.

She was still recovering from surgery, and Rose was so, painfully vulnerable. Yet, when Katya walked through to their living room, she was greeted with the sight of Trixie laying on her back, Rose on her chest.

The baby was definitely asleep, but that didn’t stop Trixie from singing to her, an adoring look on her face which Trixie couldn’t ever remember seeing before.

Katya knew there was laundry to be done, that there was mess on every surface of the flat and they were supposed to be hosting various friends and relatives that day, that she was two days overdue for a shower.

Somehow, though, none of that really mattered. Their family and friends could get over it, if Katya never opened the front door. The mess would only pile up again if Katya cleared up, and Trixie needed a shower just as badly as Katya did. Neither of them cared.

With Trixie smiling up at her from the sofa, laying on her back and still humming softly. Rose was asleep, by some miracle at this time in the morning, lying happily belly down on Trixie’s chest. Everything she needed was in the room, with Rose in a ridiculous dinosaur onesie (which Katya had bought as a surprise, making Trixie laugh the morning she presented their daughter dressed in it), and her wife both happy and on-the-mend.

There was barely room for her on the couch, but Katya still clambered her way onto the cushions, Trixie holding onto her with one hand. With greasy faces and unbrushed teeth, Trixie kissed her tenderly. Katya fought to remember every single touch, each breath that Trixie and Rose took in that moment. She wasn’t tired, but Katya was so content, she let herself fall asleep, Trixie’s soft humming the soundtrack for her favourite memory to date.

**Author's Note:**

> Not my usual style, but I hope some people enjoyed it!
> 
> I don't have a single maternal bone in my body, but I'd die for Rose Britney-Rae Mattel Zamolodchikova.
> 
> If you haven't already, please check out my series Pre-Paid! Just posted an epilogue, which ties up some lose ends and is also very sweet. <3


End file.
